I was going through my Facebook newsfeed tonight and there was a posting of a video about rejected babies in Korea.  So heart wrenching … to the point I was very emotional.  It triggered some old feelings.

You see, I am no stranger to rejection.  Seeing unwanted babies dropped into a drop box … rejected by their own mothers really broke my heart.  I know that these mothers have their reasons and I am so glad that there’s a pastor in Korea making a way to save these unwanted babies.  But one day, these poor children will reach an age where they will wonder, and be haunted by why their mothers didn’t love them enough … to keep them.

My mother did not plan to have me.  I was a surprise that I suspect ‘ruined her life.’  She ‘had‘ to get married.  The reason I think this is is because she never did love me or accept me.  She clothed me and fed me and put a roof over my head – and for these things I am very grateful.  But looking back, I don’t recall her having affection for me the way she did for my sister (who was always her favourite.)  She was colder toward me.  Much colder.  I grew up feeling like I wasn’t really part of the family.  I always felt like I was on the outside looking in, even as a little kid.  I felt detached for as long as I can remember, and I have very, very few memories as a child.  I ached for her love, and I recall doing so much and trying to be so good to get her to notice.  In my early twenties I gave up trying because nothing I did was working – nothing I did earned her love and I just kind of went my own way, and her opinion of me didn’t matter anymore (until I became a Christian in my mid-twenties.)  My whole life, otherwise, was trying to earn her unattainable love.  A love that she just didn’t have in her to give.  I tried to get close to her once by sharing intimate information – she betrayed my confidence by blabbing my personal life to a friend of hers (and I suspect friends – plural) who blabbed it back to me in a very public setting.  I was embarrassed and humiliated.  I felt stabbed in the back.  It was easy to know who betrayed me because she was the only one I told about this certain thing.  I was so hurt.  So many times she did this through the years … taking little bites out of my heart bit by bit until it completely bled out.  Bit by bit I was diminished more and more until I had nothing left to give.  I became an empty shell person.  I felt utterly worthless, and I felt completely unloveable which made me believe that I was loathsome, having no redeemable qualities.  I mean, how loveable could I be if my own mother didn’t even love me?  The worst part is that I tried so hard to be who she wanted me to be that I came to a place where I had no idea who I was.  I was emotionally and mentally stripped.

As I got older, her hatred of me became more and more evident and especially when I became a Christian is when it became exponentially worse because I tried even harder then to love her into loving me.  It didn’t work.  I was rejected and hated on.  It came to a point where I had to omit her from my life for my own mental health.  A decade later I was rejected again by my family of origin when I told them about her abuse of me.  They did not believe me just like I knew they wouldn’t, I suppose that is why I put off telling them the truth for so long – because I knew in my gut it would mean being rejected by them.  And I was right.

My mother’s abuse was insidious and secretive – and my father and siblings never really saw it even though they were witnesses to it.  Her abuse was so normal that they could not see it for what it really was!  They could not see the incredible pain it caused me.  My mother’s abuse of me was worse when she and I were alone and it was much more subtle in social settings – I was the only one who truly knew the depth of her ‘subtle’ public stabs – only I knew the depth of the stab.  My family of origin were so used to seeing this that they couldn’t see it for what it was.  It was for them, ‘normal.’

Rejection.  I think this has got to be one of the most painful things in the world … to be rejected by one’s own mother … and family of origin.


It wasn’t so long ago that I was reminded of Someone else who was utterly rejected.  His name is Yeshua (Jesus).  He came to die in order to pay the sin payment for every person on this planet.  I huge love gesture … and even He was rejected and He Himself said, “If the world hate you, ye know that it hated me before it hated you.” ~ John 15:18, KJV

The Lord was no stranger to being rejected by those whom He loved enough to die for.  I could not imagine His pain.  Although painful, this comforted me.  He knew my pain.

The Lord God has been my comfort, my strength and my Light.  He promised me in two different visions well over a decade ago that He would be all the mother and father I would ever need and He has been that for me in ways that completely astound me.

Being a mother myself … the thought of my kids not knowing how loved they are by me would absolutely kill me.  I tell them quite often that I love them and try to find ways to show it as often as I can.  I couldn’t stand my kids feeling like I did when I was young.  I prayed for each one of my kids before they were even conceived, I prayed for the gender I’d like and the characteristics I’d like to see in them … and God answered each prayer with each of my three kids – it is uncanny how precisely the Lord gave me what I humbly asked for with each child.  The Lord gave and it made me feel dearly loved.  He had to show me what love looked like, of which I know I am not perfect at, but each day is a striving to love the best way I know how.

We were born to love … and be loved … especially as children.  Rejecting children when they are so young will scar them in ways the world could never see.  They are often very unseen.  Their bruises and scars are on the inside.  Rejection and abuse changes who they would and could have been.

The lessons I learned through this is you cannot, no matter how hard you try; you cannot make someone love you.  Love is not merely affectionate feeling – its also a verb.  It is not weighed on a scale of give-and-take – it is giving it your all, 100 percent, all of the time.  Love is something you DO even when you don’t feel like it.  I am convinced that rejection is the most painful thing a human being can experience – and no human being should ever go through life thinking they are unworthy of love and affection … because every person is.

~ Saoirse Quill

See That Box? That’s Where They Put the Babies. And It’s the Most Remarkable Thing You’ll See All Week


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